The parking ticket that cracked the Son of Sam case — and the letter detectives couldn't ignore

The witness saw a man holding a parking ticket near the scene of the final shooting.
That scene was Brooklyn, July 31, 1977.
The attack had killed one person and wounded another.
Months of work had come before this moment.
Thousands of tips.
A stalled investigation.
A letter left at one scene, addressed to police Captain Joseph Borrelli.
It was signed "Son of Sam."
That name became the case's public label.
The ticket was just paper.
It was also the hinge.
Police traced it to a 1975 Ford Galaxie.
The car was registered to David Berkowitz.
He was 24 years old.
He worked for the postal service.
A parking ticket.
A car.
A name.
The breakthrough arrived through the mundane.
It is not established that the witness identified Berkowitz by name at the scene.
The record states only that a witness reported seeing a man with a parking ticket.
That report was enough.
The ticket led to the car.
The car led to the man.
The man was arrested on August 10, 1977.
How could a piece of paper end a year of terror?
It traced a path.
It gave the investigation its first solid thread.
After months of stalled work, the ticket moved everything.
A YEAR OF ATTACKS
The first attack came on July 29, 1976, in the Bronx.
A gunman fired on two young women in a parked car.
One woman was wounded.
Her companion, Donna Lauria, was killed.
The gunman was later identified as David Berkowitz.
That identification came more than a year later.
Between that first shooting and July 31, 1977, the gunman carried out a series of attacks across New York City.
The attacks happened in the Bronx, in Queens, and in Brooklyn.
The targets were mostly young couples in parked cars.
A second attack killed one victim and wounded another.
A third attack wounded two people.
A fourth attack killed one person.
A fifth attack wounded a woman.
A sixth attack wounded a woman.
The exact dates of each attack beyond the first and the last are not in the record.
The source gives the overall span and the bookends.
What is in the record is the rhythm: a year of shootings, then silence, then another.
The city waited.
Police received thousands of tips.
None of them produced a suspect.
Then the shooter left a letter at one scene.
It was addressed to Captain Joseph Borrelli, the lead detective.
It was signed "Son of Sam."
That name became the case's public label.
It did not crack the case.
The letter gave the investigation a name, not a man.

The attacks continued.
The final attack came on July 31, 1977, in Brooklyn.
It killed one victim and wounded another.
A witness reported seeing a man with a parking ticket near the scene.
That ticket led police to a 1975 Ford Galaxie.
The car was registered to David Berkowitz, a 24-year-old postal worker.
He was arrested on August 10, 1977, outside his apartment in Yonkers.
A year of attacks.
One ticket.
That was the thread.
THE LETTER AND THE TIPS
The investigation was drowning.
Police received thousands of tips.
Thousands of names, thousands of sightings, thousands of dead ends.
The case stalled for months.
Then a letter appeared at the scene of an attack on two victims.
It was addressed to Captain Joseph Borrelli of the New York City Police Department.
It was signed "Son of Sam."
The letter contained taunting language.
The exact contents are not quoted in the record.
The record states only that it taunted.
It taunted the police who could not find him.
It taunted the city that could not stop him.
And it gave the case a name.
That name stuck.
The public knew the gunman as Son of Sam.
The police knew him as a voice on paper.
Then another letter arrived.
This one went to columnist Jimmy Breslin of the New York Daily News.
Breslin published it.
The letter became public.
It became a key piece of evidence.
It also became a performance.
The killer was writing to the city now.
He was writing to the press.
He was writing to Borrelli.
Borrelli was the lead detective.
He was the man the first letter named.
He was the man the killer chose to address.
Why that captain?
Why that name?
The record does not say.
The letter does not explain.
It only taunts.
And the tips kept coming.
Thousands of them.
Each one checked.
Each one discarded.
The killer kept writing.
The city kept waiting.
The investigation kept turning.
Not because the letters helped.
But because the letters were all they had.
THE FINAL ATTACK AND THE ARREST
The final attack came on July 31, 1977, in Brooklyn.
It killed one victim and wounded another.

A witness reported seeing a man with a parking ticket near the scene.
Not a description of a face.
Not a name.
A parking ticket.
Police traced that ticket to a 1975 Ford Galaxie.
The car was registered to David Berkowitz, a 24-year-old postal worker.
When officers approached his car outside his Yonkers apartment, they found a rifle and ammunition inside.
He was arrested on August 10, 1977, without incident.
The witness's name is not in the record; the source refers only to "a witness."
The exact time of the arrest is not specified beyond the date.
That is not established.
What is established is what came next.
Berkowitz later confessed to all the shootings.
He provided details that matched the crime scenes.
A .44 caliber Bulldog revolver was recovered from his apartment.
Ballistic tests linked it to the shootings.
A year of stalled investigation, thousands of tips, letters taunting the police.
It ended with a ticket.
It ended with a car.
It ended with a rifle in plain view.
The manhunt collapsed into an arrest so quiet it barely registered.
Not because the letters solved it.
But because a witness saw what they saw.
AND THE STORY STILL ISN'T OVER
He was charged with multiple counts of murder and attempted murder.
He initially pleaded not guilty.
Then he changed the plea to guilty on all charges.
The court accepted the plea.
The judge sentenced him to 25 years to life for each murder, to run consecutively.
That totals 365 years in prison.
Berkowitz did not testify at trial.
The defense argued he was mentally ill.
The court found him competent to plead guilty.
The case did not end at sentencing.
It became a law with his name.
New York passed the "Son of Sam" law to stop criminals from profiting from their crimes.
The law was later ruled unconstitutional.
It was revised.
It remains in effect in a modified form.
The hearings keep coming.
Berkowitz has been denied parole multiple times.
The specific dates of those denials are not in the record.
The hearings are held periodically.
He has expressed remorse.
He has stated that his claims of demonic commands were fabricated.
He said the dog was not a demon.
He said the neighbor was not commanding him.
That would require evidence.
He remains incarcerated at Shawangunk Correctional Facility in New York.
As of the latest reports, he is still there.
The manhunt collapsed into an arrest so quiet it barely registered.
The guilty plea was quieter.
Decades later, the name on the law is his.
The man in the cell is his.
The case is closed.
It keeps reopening.
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